It’s been over 2 years since Alina Cojocaru danced a MacMillan ballet at Covent Garden. While the public in Washington DC and Havana were able to see her Manon last summer, Londoners who had been dreaming of seeing her in Mayerling at the start of the autumn season had to hold their breaths a little longer and await her return to MacMillan in the role of Juliet, the very same role she had danced in the autumn of 2007.

The wait was most definitely worth it. If before her Juliet was moving, now she is heartwrenching. She has matured the role, refined it, added nuance and experience, less the innocent teenager more the tragic outcast, headstrong-yet-vulnerable girl transformed by love. These qualities are evident, for instance, in the scene where Juliet, already secretly married to Romeo, tries to challenge her parents as they impose the nobleman Paris on her. As she tries to fight back, throwing her fists at the father, pleading to the mother, the realisation sinks in that she is alone in this, her whole body expressing the humiliation Juliet has suffered.

Whereas 2 years ago she might have played the scene where Juliet hides under the covers with a slight hint of comic relief now it looks like desperation, the will to disintegrate and not have to deal with an impossible situation, grief written in her face. This time few in the audience were chuckling.

The other pivotal moment in Alina’s interpretation comes when she discovers the lifeless Romeo in the Capulet tomb, her desperate howl of pain – albeit silent – is louder than Prokofiev’s sublime score. Her last gesture slowly motioning at the faint light above the tomb suggests the hope at a reunion with Romeo in heaven, almost as if she can already see their souls transcending.

While Johan Kobborg might not be my dream cast Romeo he is unquestionably a perfect partner for Alina’s Juliet. If technically her Juliet was arguably on better form than his Romeo, when they dance their bodies move lyrically as one, in full sync. Together they delivered a balcony scene full of passion and romantic abandonment, as if they had no other care in the world. They are well matched in temper too, Johan’s headlong Romeo seeming like the kind of guy who would really drop everything in his life once he fell head over heels in love. The extent of his impassioned nature is also very convincingly portrayed after Mercutio’s death, guilt reaching boiling point as he rushes towards Tybalt to retaliate.

With a strong supporting cast full of wonderful performances, from Brian Maloney’s limber, handsomely cast Mercutio, Bennet Gartside’s chilling Tybalt (his death scene one of the most poignant I have ever seen) to Laura Morera’s unparalleled Harlot and Sergei Polunin’s stylish lead Mandolin this is really a performance not to be missed. This same cast is performing again next Wednesday and I would urge those still thinking about it to beg, borrow or steal a ticket.

Go If: You can’t resist a tragic love story. New Moon is your favorite book of the entire Twilight Saga and you can quote a certain passage from Act II, Scene VI of Shakespeare’s play by heart (don’t worry we won’t tell anyone). You’ve never been to the ballet and want to start with a tale that’s easy to follow in dance form.

Avoid If: Get thee gone, thou artless idle-headed pignut! (Ok, so you’re not a fan of The Bard)

The idea for Romeo and Juliet as ballet came originally from Sergei Radlov, the Artistic Director of the Kirov (now the Mariinsky) around 1934. He developed the scenario together with theatre critic Adrian Piotrovsky and commissioned the music from one of his favorite Chess partners: Sergei Prokofiev who had never before composed for a full-length ballet.

Prokofiev finished the score on September, 1935 but the production was stalled when the communist regime demanded it be given a happy ending. Having shaped his score to match Radlov’s interpretation of the Shakespearean play Prokofiev was unhappy with this imposition.

Further political problems saw the project shelved and transferred to the Bolshoi where it was deemed unsuitable. The ballet was eventually salvaged by the Kirov and on January 11, 1940 Romeo and Juliet finally received its premiere, with choreography by Artistic Director Leonid Lavrovsky. Legendary Galina Ulanova was the original Juliet and Konstantin Sergeyev her Romeo. The ballet was hailed a success but it only became a phenomenon six years later when it was staged in The Bolshoi Theatre (December 28, 1946), resulting in Lavrovsky’s appointment as Artistic Director of the Bolshoi.

The Bolshoi toured London for the first time and staged Lavrovsky’s Romeo and Juliet in the Covent Garden Stage (October 3, 1956) to great acclaim. Margot Fonteyn expressed she had “never seen anything like it” and budding choreographer John Cranko was so inspired by the ballet that he soon started to plan his own version.

Cranko’s staging is renowned for its strong corps de ballet dances, which set the atmosphere. The first scene takes place in the cramped streets of Verona, so both Montagues and Capulets are incapable of avoiding each other. In Act II the fight erupts amongst peasants on a harvest festival, with everyone involved and fruits being spilled around. At that time Cranko’s company were still developing their technique and identity so the choreography is relatively simple. When it comes to the various pas de deux one can see Lavrovsky’s influence in the very Soviet style of partnering with lifts and tosses.

Kenneth MacMillan, a close friend of Cranko’s from their dancing days in the Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet, was inspired to create his own version for The Royal Ballet after seeing it staged by The Stuttgart Ballet. An opportunity came when The Royal Opera House failed to secure a deal with the Bolshoi to exchange performance rights for Ashton‘s La Fille Mal Gardée against Lavrovsky’s Romeo and Juliet. Ninette de Valois had also asked Sir Frederick Ashton to stage the version originally choreographed for The Royal Danish Ballet in 1955 but he feared that something created for a smaller theatre would look modest compared to the scale of the Russian production. Ashton, then Artistic Director, suggested to the Board of Directors that MacMillan should undertake the task of creating a new version.

MacMillan had devised a balcony scene pas de deux for Lynn Seymour and Christopher Gable for a feature on Canadian television and once he received the go-ahead he started working on his first full-length ballet, nowadays one of Romeo and Juliet’s most definitive versions.

Designer Nicholas Georgiadis was inspired by Franco Zeffirelli‘s production of the Shakespearean tragedy for the Old Vic, in which the Capulets lived in a big fortress-like mansion. MacMillan wanted his ballet to be more realistic than romantic, with added contemporary touches. He wanted the young lovers to die painfully and to drop the reconciliation between Capulets and Montagues at the end of the play providing a different angle from the Lavrovsky & Cranko versions.

The ballet was choreographed on Seymour and Gable as Juliet and Romeo. As usual, MacMillan explored the role of the outsider in his portrayal of Juliet, a headstrong and opinionated girl who breaks away from her family. He started with the pas de deux (the highlights of this staging) and drew on the full company plus extras to set the town scenes.

While work was in progress Covent Garden management delivered the blow that Fonteyn and Nureyev would be first cast Juliet and Romeo, a shock to MacMillan, to Ashton (who had expected them as a first cast for the US tour only) and to dancers Seymour and Gable who had to teach their roles and resign themselves to a lower spot on the bill.

MacMillan’s pleas to Covent Garden management to keep Seymour and Gable in the premiere were in vain. His Romeo and Juliet premiered on February 9, 1965, with Fonteyn and Nureyev taking 43 curtain calls over a 40 minute applause. In the US it quickly became the best known version of the Prokofiev ballet. Besides the Royal Ballet, the ballet is also part of the regular repertory of American Ballet Theatre, The Royal Swedish Ballet and Birmingham Royal Ballet (with designs by Paul Andrews).

Story

You probably don’t need our help with this one. Regardless of version the storyline remains more or less the same:

Act I

Scene 1. The Market Place in Verona

It’s early hours in Verona. Romeo unsucessfully tries to woo Rosaline and is consoled by his friends Mercutio and Benvolio. As the market awakens and street trading starts a quarrel breaks out between the Montagues and the Capulets. Tybalt, Lord Capulet’s nephew, provokes Romeo’s group and the sword fighting begins with both Lord Montague and Lord Capulet joining in. Escalus, the Prince (or Duke) of Verona, enters and commands the families to cease fighting and issues a death penalty for any further bloodshed.

Scene 2. Juliet and her Nurse at the Capulet House

Lord Capulet’s only daughter Juliet is playing with her nurse. Her parents enter her chambers and inform Juliet of her impending engagement to the wealthy noblement Paris to whom she is to be formally introduced at the evening’s ball. In MacMillan’s version Juliet’s introduction to Paris happens at this point.

Scene 3. Outside the Capulet House

Guests are seen arriving at the Capulets’. Romeo, still in pursuit of Rosaline, makes his way into the ball in disguise accompanied by Mercutio and Benvolio.

Scenes 4 & 5. The Ballroom & Outside the Capulet House

At the ball all eyes are on Juliet as she dances with her friends. Romeo becomes so entranced by her that he completely ignores Mercutio’s attempts to distract him. As Juliet starts to notice Romeo his mask falls. Juliet is immediately bewitched but Tybalt recognises Romeo and orders him to leave. Lord Capulet intervenes and welcomes Romeo and his friends as guests. At this point in MacMillan’s stagingwe see inebriated guests leaving and Lord Capulet stopping Tybalt from pursuing Romeo.

Scene 6. Juliet’s Balcony

Later that night Juliet is unable to sleep and stands on her balcony thinking about Romeo. Just then he appears on the garden below and they both dance a passionate pas de deux where they express their mutual feelings.

As festivities are being held at the marketplace Romeo daydreams about getting married to Juliet. His reverie is broken when Juliet’s nurse makes her way through the crowds bringing him Juliet’s letter with the acceptance to his proposal. The young couple is secretly married by Friar Laurence, who hopes the union will end the conflict between their respective families.

Scene 3. The Market Place

Tybalt enters interruping the festivities. He provokes Romeo, who now avoids the duel, realising he is now part of Juliet’s family. Mercutio is willing to engage with Tybalt and, in vain, Romeo attempts to stop them. Mercutio is fatally wounded by Tybalt. Romeo seeking to avenge his friend’s death finally yields to Tybalt’s provocations and kills him. Romeo must now flee before being discovered by Prince of Verona. Curtains close as Lady Capulet grieves over Tybalt’s dead body and her breakdown is particularly emphasised in Cranko’s staging.

Romeo has spent his last night in Verona with Juliet but as dawn arrives he must flee for Mantua despite her pleas. To Juliet’s dismay Lord and Lady Capulet appear together with Paris to start preparations for the wedding. Juliet refuses to marry Paris and Lord Capulet threatens to disown her. In despair, Juliet seeks Friar Laurence’s counsel.

Scenes 2 & 3. Friar Laurence’s Chapel & Juliet’s Bedroom

Juliet begs Friar Laurence for help. He gives Juliet a sleeping potion that will make her fall into a deathlike sleep. This will make everyone believe Juliet is dead while the Friar will send for Romeo to rescue her. Juliet returns home and agrees to marry Paris. She drinks the potion and falls unconscious. Her friends and parents arrive the next morning and discover her lifeless.

Scene 4. The Capulet Family Crypt

Romeo has heard of Juliet’s death (in the Lavrovsky version we see Romeo break down in grief as the news are delivered to him) and has returned to Verona without having received Friar Laurence’s message. He enters the crypt disguised as a monk where he finds Paris by Juliet’s body. Stunned by grief, Romeo kills Paris (this is absent from Lavrovsky’s staging). Still believing Juliet to be dead Romeo drinks a vial of poison and collapses. Juliet awakes to find Romeo dead beside her. She stabs herself to join Romeo in death.

Epilogue (Lavrovsky version)

Both Montagues and Capulets gather together and reconcile before their children’s bodies.

Marcia Haydée and Richard Cragun in the Bedroom pas de deux Cranko version [link]

Other versions

Prokofiev’s masterful composition for Romeo and Juliet is now better known than any other but a number of earlier and later productions of the ballet have been set to different scores and choreography:

Antony Tudor‘s Romeo and Juliet for Ballet Theatre, now ABT (1943), set to various pieces of music by Frederick Delius.

Sir Frederick Ashton’s Romeo and Juliet for The Royal Danish Ballet (1955). This is a signature Ashton piece with none of Lavrovsky’s influence (as Ashton had not yet seen that staging). Clips of the revival by London Festival Ballet with Katherine Healy as Juliet can be found here [link]

Maurice Béjart‘s Romeo and Juliet (1966). Set to the music of Berlioz this version was presented at the Cirque Royal, Brussels. A video featuring Suzanne Farrell as Juliet and Jorge Donn as Romeo can be found here [link]

Rudolf Nureyev’s version for the London Festival Ballet (1977). Nureyev later reworked this same version for the Paris Opera Ballet (1984). The ballet is available on DVD with Monique Loudieres as Juliet and Manuel Legris as Romeo. Clips can be seen here [link]

John Neumeier‘s for the Frankfurt Ballet (1971). This version was restaged for his own Hamburg Ballet in 1974. It has also been further revised and staged by The Royal Danish Ballet. Clips can be seen here [link]

Yuri Grigorovich‘s version for the Bolshoi (1982) set to Prokofiev’s score. This version is still danced by the company.

Peter Martins’sRomeo + Juliet for NYCB (2007). A series of videos following the ballet’s creative process can be found on NYCB‘s channel [link]

Music

Prokofiev’s score for Romeo and Juliet is considered one of the four greatest orchestral compositions for ballet (together with Tchaikovsky’s scores for Swan Lake, The Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker). He originally conceived the score as 53 sections linked by the dramatic elements of the story, each section named after the characters and/or situations in the ballet.

Like Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev developed leitmotifs for the characters. There are 7 themes for Juliet varying from her playful/girlish side in Act I to romantic and dramatic themes which follow her development into a woman in love and foreshadow the impending tragedy in Act III.

A quintessential Spotify / iPod playlist should include the three orchestra suites (Opus 64bis, Opus 64ter and Opus 101)

Suite No 1. Folk Dance, The Street Awakens, Madrigal, The Arrival of Guests, Masks, Romeo and Juliet, Death of Tybalt.

Suite No 2. Montagues and Capulets, Juliet the Young Girl, Dance, Romeo and Juliet before parting, Dance of the Girls with Lilies, Romeo at Juliet’s Grave.

Suite No 3. Romeo at the Fountain, Morning Dance, Juliet, The Nurse, Morning Serenade, The Death of Juliet.

Kenneth MacMillan, one of the leading choreographers of the twentieth century, is credited with pushing the boundaries of classical ballet and challenging audiences to look beyond the idealised world of fairy tales into the reality and discomfort of their own mortal existence.

With ballets that probed into all extremes of the human condition MacMillan found a deeper way to engage the viewer, to make us empathise with the emotions flowing from his expressive choreography. As part of his 80th anniversary celebrations The Institute of Psychoanalysis and the Royal Academy of Dance are sponsoring a full day symposium which will explore the relationships between physical expression and emotional impact in the choreographer’s work.

Leading MacMillan interpreter Edward Watson, one of the symposium’s participants, has just finished a critically acclaimed run of Mayerling at Covent Garden, dancing the challenging role of Crown Prince Rudolf. We were delighted that Watson agreed to talk to us about the choreographer’s legacy and the way into MacMillan’s complex, yet so very human, characters:

Let’s start with your recent performances as Crown Prince Rudolf in Mayerling. How much physical and emotional commitment does the “toughest of male roles” require and how do you resurface from each performance?

EW: There is no other way to go about it without being totally physically and emotionally committed to it. I don’t you think you can separate them, it’s all one thing. You just get yourself ready to commit musically, emotionally and physically, all of those things, to enter on it, to be believable and credible. In terms of how you feel afterwards…

Because it is such an intense role…

EW: It’s really intense and every show is different, but I never sleep after Mayerling, I am still awake at four in the morning. It’s completely draining, you feel drained after Act II. Actually after Act I you feel like you’ve done three acts already so… it is funny to get yourself ready for it. You don’t want to give yourself out too much at the beginning, otherwise you are not going to have enough energy to the end. In the first act I am always trying to pace myself and, knowing how you are going to feel at the end, you think: why would I do this to myself? But it is an amazing thing to do. I’ve never had any kind of experience like that where you feel you almost lived as someone else for a couple of hours. It’s incredible, a great ballet, it is just amazing.

In addition to Crown Prince Rudolf, Des Grieux and Romeo are all MacMillan classics you have danced a number of times in different places. How have your interpretations of these roles evolved over time?

EW: The biggest change has been with Romeo, because I’ve done it a lot now. Not that I think I wasn’t ready when I first danced it, but Lauren [Cuthbertson] and I weren’t ideally matched and we both knew that, so we relied on our youth to tell the story that way. This is something I have tried to keep. Romeo is a boy and Juliet a girl, they are kids, they are not a prince and a princess. Some people play it like a 20th century classic rather than being clumsy kids which is what they are in a way. The choreography for Romeo is particularly demanding. That I feel I am still trying to get right, to show the youth and abandonment while technically being tight and secure. I’ve now danced Romeo with Lauren, with Mara [Galeazzi] and with Leanne [Benjamin] so you find so many different things with whomever you are responding to or whoever is in front of you.

MacMillan’s characters are typically complex and they demand strong dramatic skills. How important is it to have a like-minded partner? Do you discuss a mutual approach beforehand or is it mainly an act and react dynamic?

EW: Both of those things. Some moments you find something has developed without talking. You are playing something in a certain way, your partner too and it works. When it doesn’t work we tend to discuss. You say, I don’t know what you are doing, what you are thinking or what are you trying to say through the way that you do that step, or is there anything I can help you with, for instance, in the way I lift you. The way into MacMillan is definitely through the steps. It’s not through putting on a face and acting. All is there to be discovered in the choreography. There is so much to be brought out that I don’t think you’ll ever stop finding things in movement. The amazing thing about being a dancer in those ballets is that you will always find something that you haven’t found before. You can connect those steps somehow to your character, to your situation with another character, tiny things like the way you phrase, the way you might stretch something, a look. It is all very physical and thought makes the physical thing happen or sometimes the other way around. It’s a total symbiosis. That was the genius of MacMillan and of the people he worked with when he made these ballets into huge successes: all those elements were exactly right.

So every time one approaches the choreography, there must be new things to be discovered?

EW: Physically everybody is different. I look very different to, say, David Wall [who created the role of Crown Prince Rudolf] or Irek Mukhamedov. So just as they approach steps musically different or physically different, so will I. In classical ballets like Swan Lake or Sleeping Beauty, there are set rules, very obvious rules of what looks right and what doesn’t, but when the choreography really describes character and character situation, there is so much an individual can find to say with a character. It is a dancer’s dream. Of course there are rules, there is set choreography to set music but you can find your way of saying certain things within those rules.

Are there any experiences or specific preparations that have enriched your interpretation of a particular role?

EW: I do a lot of reading. With Romeo I went straight back to the play. Kenneth worked really close to Shakespeare’s play and I know Lynn Seymour [who created the role of Juliet] did. There were a few masterclasses that Tamara [Rojo] and I did with Lynn where she read the text to us and described what he was trying to say at that point. I also read Manon, but it was a ballet I grew up with, watching it as a kid and dancing various parts always.

The most research I did was with Mayerling because Crown Prince Rudolf was a real person and so you have a responsibility to be very honest. I read a lot of books on the subject. Deborah [MacMillan] lent me a book which Kenneth gave her for her birthday which he based the ballet on. She lent me her copy so I could find things that he had underlined in there, things that were really important to him. I also had a weekend in Vienna, I went to visit Mayerling and saw the grave. It fascinated me, this ballet has always fascinated me since I was a kid, from having seen the South Bank documentary originally with Lynn Seymour and David Wall. It is one of those ballets that grow on you. The more you see it, the more you want to see it again. Being in Mayerling had an impact on me because it doesn’t come around that often. It wasn’t in the company for about 8 years while I was here.

EW: I re-read The Road to Mayerling and when I visited the Mayerling lodge, which is now a convent, I found these weird photocopies outlining the events with dates and times, so I read through that, but I had already done so much before that I knew what I wanted to do, what I wanted to change. I wanted the character to build up more this time.

MacMillan revolutionised storytelling in classical ballet, taking it out of its comfort zone, digging deep into human psyche. How relevant are narrative ballets nowadays?

EW: I think people want story-based ballets. It is easier for an audience to want to come to a ballet with a story. Triple bills are harder because of the lack of a linear narrative for a whole evening. Alice in Wonderland is going to be Chris Wheeldon’s next thing [for the Royal Ballet] and I think it is the right time and I hope it is a success.

Having said that, MacMillan’s one-act ballets are what made me, what I grew up in. My first principal role was in My Brother, My Sisters. Those ballets say much about people, feelings and situations, and even Gloria, and Triad, ballets I did when I was younger, there’s so much in them that is not about set characters like Des Grieux, Rudolf and Romeo, but they are still such an amazing experience.

In the past you mentioned that your role in Gloria – one of MacMillan’s most personal ballets – was your favourite…

EW: Did I? I love that ballet, I really love it.

Which is your favorite one-act MacMillan now?

EW: It changes all the time, I have nice memories of all sorts of things but Different Drummer really changed a lot for me. Physically, it really felt like it fitted. I had to work very hard but I understood its physicality, I understood where he was going with it, and in a funny way, it’s the same kind of intense experience as Mayerling, only shorter, but also totally exhausting. It was a wonderful working time for me, Leanne and I were working together a lot and she had worked with Kenneth on the ballet, so she could help me a lot. And Monica Parker who coached us was really enthusiastic as it hadn’t been done for a long time, for about 15 years. It was a ballet people hadn’t seen, that a whole company hadn’t been involved with, so it was really exciting to have the responsibility of bringing it back and making people want to see it. That whole experience probably makes it my favorite one-act.

And your favorite full-length?

EW: Manon and Mayerling are both wonderful. Manon is a ballet that I had always wanted to do since I was a kid, since I was at White Lodge and it ended up being the last big MacMillan role that I debuted in. I love it and Mara is fantastic and I wouldn’t be anything in that ballet without her, it’s really about what she gives me. But more recently, and for the same reasons as above, I should say Mayerling, it is still kind of…it is still lingering on my back!

About the upcoming MacMillan symposium this November, can you give us any insights into what participants may expect?

EW: There will be discussions from psychologists and also from dancers and collaborators who were involved with Kenneth on creating those ballets and, demonstrations from people like me, doing bits of Mayerling. There’s also going to be archive footage, so people can see and discuss the ballets. It will be very interactive, people will be able to ask questions rather than just being presented to. I have a feeling it’s going to be a very interesting day, a real eye opener into what MacMillan is all about.

In your opinion, what is MacMillan’s greatest legacy to ballet?

EW: In my opinion, all of that work. Even those works that are considered failures or that aren’t danced so much these days. It’s so important that someone was constantly pushing classical ballet. It’s classical ballet pushed beyond what you would expect it to, either to tell a story or, like Song of the Earth, telling you everything about life, death and everything in between. No costumes, amazing music, choreography that moves you and you understand somehow through those amazing poems and Mahler’s music that someone can express those feelings to an audience. And that the very same person can tell the most complicated story, like Mayerling, through dance. I find it total genius that someone can do that. No stop and mime, all of those feelings are expressed through choreography.

Song of the Earth is my favourite ballet of all time to watch and the last few times I did it, I loved it. It’s so strange because you are very removed from everyone else. There’s more impact to be made [as the Messenger of Death] by being subtle and just gently there. The poems that inspired Mahler’s songs say “death is like a whisper” and that changed the way I did the role, it’s like a little whisper that’s always there or a feeling, slightly dimmer and you wonder why. It’s little things like that, that you can read and find out. When he was making the ballets MacMillan didn’t always tell people exactly what he wanted them to feel, but it was obviously in his mind, his influences from what he read, from what he heard, all this concerned him.

How transparent then, that even when he did not say it, he could actually find a way to.

EW: Well, that’s the kind of genius he was.

Kenneth MacMillan’s Choreographic Imagination and Psychological Insight Symposium takes place on Sunday, November 8, 2009 from 10am to 8pm at Imperial College London.

This all day event will include a series of set pieces – videos, masterclasses, presentations – interspersed with opportunities for interactive discussion among the participants on stage and members of the audience.

The day will be divided into four separate sections:

MacMillan’s Language – Gesture & Emotion Observed and Expressed

Includes videos, presentation and discussion with National Theatre AD Nicholas Hytner and actress/writer Nichola McAuliffe

Film of MacMillan speaking, with comments from Peter Wright, Deborah MacMillan, Clement Crisp. Discussion on the creation of ‘The Judas Tree’ – with dancers from its original production (Viviana Durante, Michael Nunn and Stephen Wicks)

The event will close with a screening of the complete ballet “The Judas Tree” followed by a social gathering where the audience will have the opportunity to meet and talk with the participants.

This week we have double reason to party. While at Covent Garden the Royal Ballet returns home for the 2009/2010 season, over here at the Ballet Bag we celebrate 6 months of online balletomania. To mark the occasion we have prepared a – non exhaustive – balletic timeline of sorts, to highlight some of our favorite posts over this period. We hope you enjoy!

Image Copyright belongs to respective owners. Source: various

1738 – Tsarina Anna Ioannovna inaugurates the Choreographic School of St. Petersburg, training children of her staff at the Winter Palace to form the first Russian ballet company. The Mariinsky Ballet, August 2009 [link]

1830 – August Bournonville returns to Denmark to join the Royal Danish Ballet as a soloist, having danced for the Paris Opera and studied with Auguste Vestris. Dear Mr. Fantasy, August 2009 [link]

1886 – The refurbished Mariinsky opens its doors and becomes the permanent home for both the Imperial opera and ballet companies. The Mariinsky Ballet, August 2009 [link]

1889 – Prince Rudolf, heir to the Austro-Hungarian crown, forges a double suicide pact with his mistress Baroness Mary Vetsera at the royal hunting lodge of Mayerling. Mayerling, June 2009 [link]

1905 – Enrico Cecchetti returns from Poland to St. Petersburg to establish a ballet school and work as Anna Pavlova’s exclusive coach. The Scientist, July 2009 [link]

1909 – The Ballets Russes stage Les Sylphides in Paris at the Theatre du Chatelet, with an original cast led by Anna Pavlova, Tamara Karsavina, Vaslav Nijinsky and Alexandra Baldina. Les Sylphides, May 2009 [link]

1916 – Agrippina Vaganova begins teaching at the Imperial Ballet School, training ballet legends in the making such as Galina Ulanova, Natalia Dudinskaya and Maya Plisetskaya. Be True to Your School, May 2009 [link]

1934 – George Balanchine opens the School of American Ballet. Long Tall Sally, May 2009 [link]

1980 – Kim Brandstrup moves to London to study at the London School of Contemporary Dance with Nina Fonaroff. Life in Technicolor, September 2009 [link]

1992 – The Kirov ballet regains its former Imperial name thus becoming The Mariinsky ballet. The Mariinsky Ballet, August 2009 [link]

1999 – Sergey Vikharev reconstructs the Mariinsky’s original 1890 Petipa version of The Sleeping Beauty. The Sleeping Beauty, September 2009 [link]

2006 – Royal Ballet also goes back to its original Sleeping Beauty, restaging the 1946 production by Ninette de Valois after Nicholas Sergeyev to commemorate the company’s 75th anniversary. The Sleeping Beauty, September 2009 [link]

2008/2009 – Ballet companies boost investment in social media. The Mariinsky launches an all English language multi platform initiative, NYCB joins Twitter, ABT has over 24,000 Facebook fans and the Royal Opera House produces the Twitter Opera. Virtually There, July 2009 [link]

2009 – Veronika Part, ABT’s newest Principal dancer appears in a US talk show and is interviewed by David Letterman, a rare occurrence in the ballet world. Beautiful Woman, July 2009 [link]

2009 – 23 year old Royal Ballet dancer Steven McRae is promoted to Principal. A Fiery Spirit, July 2009 [link]

We are lucky to be part of a group of people who can regularly attend ballet performances and who are exposed to a wide repertoire and various choreographers, but a huge percentage of dance fans around the globe are unable to do so, either because their location limits access to local or visiting ballet companies and/or because of cost. Add to that the fact that ballet on television is a rare event (for evidence one only needs to check the BBC4 programming for this autumn) and that DVDs are expensive and sometimes difficult to obtain outside North America and Europe. So how do these fans get their ballet fix? In the past they would subscribe to magazines, buy illustrated books and hope to catch a live performance once in a while. Nowadays the web is their one stop shop.

Thanks to the web and its wealth of materials about companies, choreographers, evolution of technique, and legendary dancers from the past (footage of their performances are a constant source of learning and inspiration for today’s dancers) breaking down geographical barriers and educating not only future dancers but also global dance audiences is becoming more practical and viable. In this context, tools like YouTube and other streaming video sharing websites are helping make ballet more democratic and accessible, despite their imperfections and drawbacks (for instance the delicate issue of copyright regulations).

In an ideal world, streaming video content would be broadcast directly from or with the blessing of the copyright owner but in reality the bulk of ballet videos on the internet has been uploaded by private collectors. Although there are several companies with a strong YouTube presence – see our Virtually There post – if you are searching for ballet videos you will most likely fall upon filmed performances or broadcasts that might not even be part of official company archives (as is probably the case with rare footage of virtuoso dancers from the Soviet era) shared by individuals who in one way or another have obtained them.

Leaving aside the questions of intellectual property and copyright law for a moment, as well as the definition of “fair use” – although we agree that posting an entire ballet performance can hardly be categorised in such a way – it seems that commercial gain is not the driver for most of these YouTube users who share their content freely. Profit or not, some will liken these actions to “stealing” since these accounts are effectively broadcasting someone else’s work without permission or payment of royalties, both of which are impracticable for a private user. So in most cases the YouTube user will upload content anyway until the copyright owner, wishing to prevent its ballets to be copied (and staged by non authorized companies) or otherwise, objects and submits a claim to YouTube.

But is it all bad news for the copyright owner? On the flip side, YouTube provides an opportunity for free promotion of the arts. The BBC tolerates private users uploading their copyrighted material onto YouTube simply because they consider this generates more publicity and free marketing for them. The same logic could be applied to ballet and ballet companies. For instance, those who live far from the Royal Ballet or from any other major ballet company might be more likely to purchase a DVD or travel to see signature ballets such as MacMillan’s Romeo & Juliet or Ashton’s La Fille Mal Gardee if they can sample one or more extracts on YouTube first.

What could be done to conciliate both interests? Perhaps sharing video could in the future work like curatorships? As in the case of a private collector who will lend its Monet to be displayed by a museum where the public will have access to a rarely seen work, if one tweaked this concept (as here the “video owner” is not really the true owner and low quality image does not substitute real performance) and applied it to YouTube one could argue that the greater good is allowing art to be admired by everyone. Again, not everyone can afford a Monet or maybe have the opportunity of admiring it in person. But since it is an acknowledged masterpiece, shouldn’t it be fair for everyone to see it or on the least, have a taster/teaser?

Let us focus on a recent example. The YouTube Ketinoa channel contained over 1300 videos of Mariinsky & Bolshoi ballets, including extracts of rehearsals, Vaganova Academy examinations, class syllabus, new and vintage performances. Steering clear from the issue of who owns the copyright, this channel served as a film archive accessible to anyone wishing to further educate themselves or simply to enjoy great ballet extracts, with user comments largely praising its content. Last month this channel was suspended because it was found to contain a small subset of copyright protected videos featuring ballets by Balanchine. The claim was submitted on behalf of the Balanchine Trust, the body in charge of protecting the legacy of that choreographer. Assuming the channel owner received a notification asking for immediate removal of the offending videos, if he/she complied then the account could be re-activated, provided offending videos were not re-uploaded. But YouTube could also have pre-emptively suspended the account without notice to protect itself from any potential lawsuit, in compliance with the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (US), which seems to have been the case with the Ketinoa channel, based on claims by ongoing campaigns to save it (see first link in this paragraph).

We think it is a shame that because of a small subset of videos a whole archive of Mariinsky/Bolshoi rare videos should vanish for good and it seems that petitioning is the only way for YouTube to re-establish the channel (minus offending videos of course). If you were a subscriber or a user of the Ketinoa channel and would like to see it restored you can write to copyright@youtube.com.

We acknowledge that ballet in YouTube is a delicate topic but we would like to invite discussion from all sides of the debate, so feel free to leave a comment here or weigh in via our Facebook & Twitter.

Thinking of Lavrovsky’s Romeo and Juliet as completely obsolete is like saying German Expressionist cinema has no more value in a post Hitchcock world. The latter could not have existed without the former and it is always interesting to revisit original works and old schools, observing where choreographers like Cranko and MacMillan would have drawn inspiration from. With that hat on I went to see the Mariinsky’s Romeo and Juliet on Thursday, also thinking back about how much I used to enjoy Galina Ulanova in the Bolshoi’s filmed version, a staple in my hometown’s art house cinemas as I was growing up.

While I side with those who think the Lavrovsky version feels like pantomime blended with dance, that the market scenes and the sword fighting are too tidy, the balcony pas de deux not passionate enough and the constant change of scenery & props distracting (do they really need all those tables and chairs at the Capulet’s ball when these are cleared away within minutes?), there are many things to admire here. The clearer narrative, for instance, which shows us the moment where Romeo learns of Juliet’s death – the MacMillan version always makes me doubt the logic of Romeo getting to Juliet’s tomb so quickly, poison-in-pocket – and an extended wedding ceremony where Romeo covers Juliet’s path with lilies, the young couple mirroring each other’s movements in the balances they take and in the display of their line, in readiness for life together.

First night reviews (such as this one by Mr. Clement Crisp), while critical of production values and dated text, have been unanimous about Vladimir Shklyarov’s ardent Romeo. I don’t think the reviews exaggerate Shklyarov’s abilities, having seen him dance last autumn in London, but I do suspect there’s more to it and that some of this Romeo outpour is connected with Lavrovsky’s shaping of his romantic hero, as again on Thursday it was Igor Kolb‘s performance which registered the most.

Kolb has been on my “to watch” list for sometime. Generally praised for his classicism and technical abilities, coupled with strong dramatic skills, he seems on a league of his own. During the Mariinsky tour to London he will be dancing Romeo and then princes Siegfried & Desiré. Not being able to treat myself to multiple performances due to the somewhat steep prices for this tour, and wishing to limit my exposure to the opening night Juliet, the controversial Alina Somova whom I intend to see in the Balanchine triple bill (perhaps the ideal habitat for her much discussed edgy line), I decided to go with Kolb’s date, more so as his Juliet was initially supposed to be the lovely Evgenia Obraztsova.

But the same unmerciful casting gods which did not allow Evgenia to be paired with Shklyarov in the London tour (she was cast and then withdrawn from his matinee performance of The Sleeping Beauty) also took her out of Kolb’s performance. Instead I saw soloist Irina Golub, a lovely dancer of expressive eyes, beautiful line and fast feet who does not make liberal use of extensions unlike some of her colleagues. Never trying to bend Lavrovsky’s regimental choreography, Golub dances Juliet understatedly and as true to form as I would imagine it to be, but while the style is pure it exposes the choreographer’s basic sketch of Juliet. Over and over again she is seen dancing the same steps, the dance not revealing much about her character. At least not until the final act when Juliet finally shows her determination to be with Romeo at any cost.

Kolb’s presence on the other hand is never understated and all the better for it. It is a shame that Lavrovsky did not give Romeo any dancing until the balcony pas de deux (which is more of a reserved, bodies apart kind, not the emotional powerhouse we know from MacMillan) and that he and pals Mercutio and Benvolio interact mostly through pantomime. Kolb is vivid in acting (though slightly over the top in the Mantua scene, which requires him to throw a tantrum), gentle and romantic with Irina’s Juliet yet with a powerful sense of the tragedy which is to unfold (flaring up those exotic eyes!); his dancing is fluid, with sharp lines and complete commitment to the steps – including a “leap of faith” collapse to the ground which made me fear for his safety and wonder how amazing he must be in Albrecht’s variation- his are the evening’s most instense moments. I can’t wait to see him again – hopefully paired with Obraztsova – in The Sleeping Beauty next week.

Choreographic shortcomings aside, it is a delight to see the stylish work of the Mariinsky corps and to hear the superb orchestra under Gruzin’s conducting (the brass never sounds that sharp in the Royal Ballet’s performances). The costumes have been much criticized in the press and true, Tybalt is almost a cartoon character lost in a ballet and Lady Capulet shifts from intense grief over her nephew’s death to complete inertia upon discovering her daughter’s. But neither of these things, nor the ugly polyester wigs worn by some of the men, spoiled my enjoyment of this vintage ballet classic, which still has so much to say about Shakespeare’s timeless story.

Go if: You are tired of white ballets and of seeing male dancers perennially overshadowed by the ballerina. Mayerling, a tale of a crown prince’s descent into madness and murder, definitely puts the man on the spot. Think Hamlet with guns in lieu of swords & added drugs and you get a ballet that is as hard rocking as they get.

Skip if: You are not fond of Kenneth MacMillan’s dirty & grim ballets or very complex plots – there are so many characters involved that we strongly advise you do your homework before attending a performance (see our character diagram below). It also goes without saying that Mayerling is not a ballet for the kids. Nor for the chaste.

Rudolf, and his young mistress Vetsera seemed ideal study subjects for Kenneth MacMillan: two flawed, immoral and uncompromising soulmates. But before working on the choreography, he asked writer Gillian Freeman to provide him with a script (a rare practice in Western ballet) and conductor John Lanchbery to arrange a score for a list of dances which were then matched to 40 compositions by Franz Liszt. For this reason, the ballet may, on first view, seem like a string of episodes rather than a seamless whole, although it is undeniably a lavish and detailed costume drama.

The story is told through a series of physically grueling pas de deux between Rudolf and the many women in his life, with many moods ranging from desire to rage, from obsession to full madness. It is one of the most demanding roles created in British ballet for a male dancer requiring a high level of technique and stamina coupled with superb acting skills. Mayerling’s main selling point lies in its challenge to the idea that ballet is stuck in a world of tiaras and tutus and of fairytale princes, as Prince Rudolf is ground-breakingly portrayed by MacMillan as a depraved drug addict, sick with venereal disease, and his mistress Mary Vetsera, as a reckless and socially ambitious groupie. The court around them is rife with corruption, immorality and hypocrisy, the Emperor and Empress leading by their bad example (both having open affairs) but somehow imposing morality on their son.

Unlike Manon and Romeo and Juliet, which have become two of the most successful MacMillan export products and part of the ever more globalized repertoire of various ballet companies around the world, Mayerling is a work which is kept generally within the confines of the Royal Ballet, not only because of the controversial nature of the piece, but also due to the fact it requires a company with very strong theatrical roots (such as the Royal Ballet’s) to make the essentially mime-less storytelling clear and compelling to the audience.

Prologue: the curtains open to reveal the low key burial of Mary Vetsera at Heiligenkreuz in the dead of the night.

Act I

A flashback takes us to the ballroom at the Hofburg Palace where the wedding of Prince Rudolf and Princess Stephanie is being celebrated. To the court’s dismay Rudolf flirts openly with his sister-in-law, Princess Louise and later with Mary Vetsera to whom he is introduced by her mother and by Countess Larisch. Their mutual attraction is evident but this brief encounter is interrupted by four Hungarian officers who want to enlist Rudolf’s help in their political/separatist cause. Countess Larisch returns and attempts to rekindle the old flame of the past relationship with Rudolf, but the Emperor discovers them and orders an unapologetic Rudolf to return to his wife, whom he terrifies with rapist antics and a loaded revolver in their marital bed.

Act II

Rudolf has forced his wife to accompany him in an evening of debauchery. In disguise Bratfisch, Rudolf and Stephanie arrive at a seedy tavern. As Stephanie leaves in disgust, Rudolf turns his attention to Mitzi Caspar and to his new friends the Hungarian separatists. A police raid sends people fleeing while an increasingly mentally unstable Rudolf suggests to Mitzi that they should commit suicide together. Prime Minister Taafe enters and Rudolf hides. Mitzi, relieved to escape Rudolf’s madness leaves with Taafe, letting him know that Rudolf is hiding as they exit.

Countess Larisch finds Mary Vetsera at home contemplating a portrait of Rudolf and takes a pack of cards telling Mary’s fortune, assuring her that her romantic dreams will come true. Mary gives her a letter to pass on to Rudolf.

During Franz Josef’s birthday celebration Count Taafe confronts Rudolf with a political pamphlet. Rudolf watches with bitterness and anger as his mother openly offers a portrait of the mistress Katerina Schratt to his father and then as the Empress seeks the attentions of her own lover. Countess Larisch uses the opportunity to tease Rudolf with Mary’s letter.

Act III

The Empress discovers Countess Larisch with Rudolf in his apartment and dismisses her; unaware that Mary is waiting outside. Mary joins Rudolf, who sees in her a potential recruit for his double suicide campaign. In the hunting lodge at Mayerling Rudolf makes passionate love to Mary, clearly unstable he attempts to calm himself with an injection of morphine – he embraces Mary then shoots her. His friends come running as they hear the shot – he reassures them and as soon as he is alone shoots himself.

Epilogue: as the ballet closes, the same opening scene is repeated and expanded, we now see Mary’s body dragged into the coffin, her burial taking place in the early hours to cover up a potential royal scandal.

The Music:

Some of the Liszt pieces featured in Lanchbery’s arrangements for Mayerling: